


Cinnamint

by HorizonHold



Category: RWBY
Genre: Clover was healed with the relic staff, Hurt/Comfort, I beat chapter 12 up in a Mantle alleyway, Light Angst, M/M, Penny joins team JNPR if you look closely, Post-Atlas arc, mlm author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22806343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HorizonHold/pseuds/HorizonHold
Summary: Qrow and Clover share some coffee- and a much-needed talk.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 184





	Cinnamint

Contrary to popular belief, the deserts of Western Sanus were actually rather cold in the mornings.

The shifting expanse of sand was still silver in the fading light of the broken moon, and no sooner than when it had started to set did the sky begin to turn lighter with the rising sun. The mere sliver of blueing sky was all that was needed to rouse the ever-energetic teams RWBY and JNPR II (or “2NPR”, as Yang had very much enthusiastically insisted they go by), as well as Oscar from their slumber. Even now, the nine of them were off patrolling the area around their small caravan, looking to clear out any straggling Grimm before packing up camp.

Between the morning cold, the day-long journeys on foot, and just simply being awake at the _asscrack of dawn_ _,_ Qrow had no idea how these kids managed it. But the city of Vacuo was still more than a week away at their pace, and they needed to use every bit of sunlight they could get.

“Well, fortunately,” as Weiss had once so poetically said all those months ago back in Mistral, “Coffee exists.”

_Words to live by._

A large backpack, which lay slumped haphazardly against one of the tents, held some of the various provisions the group had picked up at a settlement in the grasslands back East some days before. Qrow rummaged around the bag until he felt a couple of small paper sachets that had sunk to the bottom. They both had their own individual and strong scents, neither of which he could place a name to at the moment, but he didn’t care- he had found just what he needed.

The center campfire had burned out overnight, but he easily resuscitated it with some stoking of the embers, and about half a gram of Dust. Once the flames rolled again, he prepared a kettle to boil some of their bottled water- and all that was left to do was wait.

The sun had still only barely risen, and the cloudless sky was still mostly bluish-black. The stars had faded, but the sun itself was not yet visible on the low desert horizon. Qrow suppressed a shiver- even with the fire restarted, it was still gods-awfully cold out in the arid wastes, but it still easily beat the polar winds of Solitas.

_Solitas… Atlas._ Qrow had tried not to dwell too much on the events that had transpired the northern kingdom some weeks ago, wanting badly to stay in the present, but every now and then the memories still resurfaced like a fresh blanket of snow on that blizzard-ridden tundra.

Really, only two good things had come out of their stay in Atlas, both damned near miracles- the first being the fact that they were able drive Salem and her forces back from Atlas at all, and the second-

“Good morning.”

Qrow stiffened a little, startled at the quiet but sudden voice. He hadn’t even heard him move from his tent, but he softened again as he watched him shift across the sandy ground to his side.

“Mmm, mornin’,” Qrow softly gruffed back. He nodded toward the kettle, still sitting above the fire. “Coffee?”

“Oh, yes please.” Clover took a seat in the sand, legs crossed, while Qrow kindled fire some more, as the water in the kettle began to produce the low sounds of the start of a boil. “You sleep well last night?”

_“Heh,_ ‘fact that I slept at all’s plenty for me,” Qrow joked.

Clover frowned. He wasn’t fond of the way Qrow so casually talked down about himself sometimes, but he was still glad to see he was… a little better than before.

“I’m surprised _you_ could sleep in _that-_ _”_ Qrow looked him up and down- “It’s freezin’ right now.”

Clover, just the same as everyone else, had slept in his day clothes- in his case, a pair of hiking boots, white cargo shorts, with his rabbit’s foot and now very familiar badge clipped to a chain on one of the belt loops, Kingfisher hooked to his other hip, and a loose green tank top that fell low under his collar. The neck of the shirt almost perfectly framed the-

...

...Qrow tried not to look directly at the scar.

Clover chuckled. “Well, that’s sure to change in about three hours. Honestly, how can you people stand the heat down here?”

Speaking of heat, the water had finally come to a full and loud boil. Qrow reached back into the bag and found two small, metal cups. “Never been to Vacuo before?”

“Once. For the Vytal Festival, back in the academy. But at least Amity Colosseum had air conditioning.”

Qrow snickered. Mantle and Atlas may have been climate controlled, apart from the year-round freezing weather outside the two cities, but even they couldn’t possibly amount to what the desert would have in store for them. There was a difference between warmth, and heat. It was no surprise that he wouldn’t have been used to Vacuo’s signature degree of it- Weiss, Atlas-born-and-raised herself, had displayed a similar dismay. 

“But other than that, you’ve _really_ never been outside a’ Solitas?”

Clover shook his head. “Never had a reason to be, really. All of my duties were at home.”

“Uh-huh.” Qrow ripped open the sachets of coffee grounds. “And what are your _duties_ now, _Mr. Ace Operative?_ ” he teased with a smile.

“ _Heh-hah_ , right, I’m sure _that’s_ a title that still lasts.” Clover rolled his eyes, but a smirk still crossed his face. He hadn’t even so much as _looked_ at his Scroll since leaving Atlas with the gang, let alone opened it. He hadn’t even left James a letter of resignation, or so much as a _“Hey, I’m no longer clinging to life support by a thread, and I’m back on my feet now, also fuck you”_ notice. Even with the Amity Communications Tower now fully operational, the group of eleven considered themselves off-grid the moment they took their first steps out of Solitas. “But I’ve made it this far without any fancy words, haven’t I?”

“Mmm, I’d call that beginner’s luck.” Qrow had only just started to pour the water over the grounds, and stopped in almost the same instant when he’d realized what he just said.

Even the sound of the flickering fire was tuned out in the dead silence, as they turned to look at each other- and then it was drowned out completely as they both exploded with laughter.

_Damn it, that one never got old._

By the time the two of them could breathe again, two fresh cups of black coffee had cooled down enough to drink.

“Here’s to bein’ AWOL?” Qrow passed one to him.

“Cheers.” Clover clinked his cup to Qrow’s, and together they took a sip.

Qrow felt the same scent from before now hit him in full force from the taste. He hadn’t bothered to look for any kind of tag or label on the grounds, so the flavor was a bit of a surprise, but not a bad one. Strong, but not overbearing. Subtly sweet, and mellow. It left a strange impression on him, and it almost felt cooling at first- but he welcomed it.

_Hmm…_

“Hey, Clover?”

“Hm?” Clover hummed in acknowledgment, still taking a long and slow sip of his own drink.

“What, uh… what’s that mean to you, anyway?”

He lowered his cup, turning to address him directly. “You mean being Absent Without Leave?”

“N-No, no, not that. I mean…” He pursed his lips. “I mean, luck. What does _luck_ mean to you?”

“Ah.” Clover saw exactly where this was going, and Qrow could see that _he_ could see. He took a deep breath. “Well... I guess it depends on how you view it. Then again, I suppose I’m not the best person to be talking about that, am I?” He paused for a quick sip. “But, since you ask…” absentmindedly, he started to trace circles in the sand with his finger.

“I remember the start of my huntsman training like it was yesterday,” Clover started. "Not Atlas, though- Algor Academy. It’s a primary school most of the homegrown Atlas students start at."

Qrow nodded. That made sense to him- he’d taught at Signal in Vale, after all, and Mistral had Sanctum, so it was no surprise that even Atlas had its own junior huntsman education system.

“I was… much like the other youths there, that first day. So eager, and full of energy-“ he leaned back, smiling as he pictured the scene- “But, also like most of them, I hadn’t found out what my own Semblance was yet.”

“Really?” Qrow sat up from a slouch, trying to get comfortable as he listened in.

“Nope,” he replied, drawing out the N. “Not a clue, and it stayed that way for quite a while.” He let his head tilt back, smiling up to the now slightly lighter sky. “Then one day, our class was out on a training daze- the good old, classic landing strategy.” He chuckled. “Though from what I hear from your girls, a Manta airdrop doesn’t _nearly_ compare to what they do at Beacon.”

Qrow had to laugh. Memories of his own Beacon initiation surfaced- the speed of the ground leaving him behind, and then just as fast rushing to meet him, all the while a strong wind bellowing in his cape- and his skirt. _Story for another time._

"So, there I was, falling from the sky toward the tundra,”

“As you do,” Qrow quipped.

Clover lightly elbowed him, just barely containing a laugh himself before continuing. “So I’ve taken the dive, I’ve done everything _perfectly,_ and what happens except-” as he spoke, he drew Kingfisher, still collapsed, from his belt- “-my weapon locks up, and I can’t cast a line.” He mimed the action with his inactive weapon. “Can you believe that?”

“Woah.” Qrow hadn’t thought of the idea of falling without simply turning into a bird for a long time. “What’d you do?”

“Well, I had a moment to lose my nerves,” Clover laughed. “But then, I saw something. You see, our dive site was between a pair of mountains. There was this _big_ pile of rocks on one slope, just _covered_ with snow. It was close to my altitude, but it was still all the way across the valley.”

“So..?”

“So…” In one sharp sweep of his arm, Kingfisher- not just its line, but all of it- went flying over and beyond a tall sand dune nearby.

Qrow blinked, dumbfounded. “You… threw it?”

Clover nodded. “I threw it.”

A loud _crunch_ came from atop the dune, followed by the echoed sound of rock crumbling apart. A moment later, a few chunks of sandstone pebbles came rolling down the hill, followed by none other than Kingfisher- settling right at the two men’s feet.

“The avalanche reached the bottom of the mountain just a few seconds before I did.” Clover leaned forward to pick up his weapon, brushing the sand off of it. “Took quite a dent to my aura, but we _both_ walked away without a scratch.” He extended the rod, shaking even more sand out of it. “Although to this day, I _still_ don’t know what caused it to freeze up like that.”

“ _Heh,_ pretty _unlucky,_ huh?”

“Maybe,” he said, collapsing his weapon once again. “But… what if it hadn’t?”

Qrow raised an eyebrow. "Eh? What do you mean?”

“Well… what if I hadn’t tried to cast then, and I tried too late? What if I hadn’t seen those rocks on the mountain? What if I had, but didn’t take that shot? Would I have landed safely anyway? Would the line suddenly start working again and miraculously save me from free falling?” Clover’s expression turned serious. “Would I even be here today if I didn’t make the choices that I had?”

Qrow could feel the weight of Clover’s words drop on him even harder than Kingfisher had dropped on that rock.

There was a moment of silence between the two, as Clover just watched the fire, and Qrow awestruckenly watched him. Not a sound was made, aside from the roar of a Grimm in the far distance, which itself was soon silenced by the muffled but unmistakable sound of a round from Crescent Rose.

“When I think of luck,” Clover finally said, “I don’t think of just ‘sometimes good things happen, and sometimes _bad_ things happen’. I don’t think of luck as something that lays out our choices for us, but rather... something that exists _because_ of our choices. The things we put out into the world come back around, you know?” He gave a small smile. “Maybe you and I are just the ones who bring 'em.”

Qrow was still completely quiet. His head fell low, and he struggled to speak against the weight in his throat. 

“Do you think I’m a bad person?”

Clover, and his military-grade reflexes, didn’t hesitate for a second. The motion in his hand was swift, but gentle, as it took Qrow’s own. His other hand felt warm to the touch as it eased his face up to see him.

The gaze in his cool, green eyes was soft, but determined. Qrow hadn’t even registered the tears that streaked his cheeks until his thumb wiped one away.

“Of course I don’t.” His voice was low, just barely above a whisper. “We _both_ made some bad choices, but that doesn’t make either of us _bad._ Certainly not _you_.”

“You got hurt.”

“I did.” His look turned somber. “But that wasn’t _your_ bad luck. I’d say that was mine.”

He could only stare back- in disbelief, in confusion, in silence.

“I think… I was right about _one_ thing that night. Sometimes... the right decision is the hardest to make. But that’s not what I did- I took the easy one.” He drew his hand back from his face, and let it rest on his own chest. “And it ended up being the _wrong_ one. And I paid the price for that.”

“Clover, how can you say that-“

“How can _you_ blame yourself for what _he_ did!?”

Qrow had never heard Clover’s voice like this before, so broken, and choked up. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears himself.

“Why..?” There was the smallest hint of a sob in his speech. “Why do you _hate yourself_ so much?”

“...I-I-”

He could only barely begin to speak before the embrace around him stopped his words from forming. Clover hugged him tight, and he could feel the tears start to stain the back of his shoulder.

“I can’t stand to see you like that.” His emotions were fully vocal now. “You’re the one who healed my heart, Qrow, and I’m _not_ just talking about the relic when I say that. So please… _please…_ don’t break it again.”

Qrow glanced down to his side. There, on his own belt, the Relic of Creation glimmered white and gold in the firelight. Ever since losing the Relic of Knowledge back in Atlas, the group had agreed to take turns holding their new relic each day, so that it couldn’t be traced back to any one person- and it so happened that today was his turn. 

Much like the lamp, the staff had the ability to change its size apparently on its own; as it was now, it was hardly any longer than a pencil- it was really more of a wand in this state. Qrow had only ever seen it at its full size- which towered even taller than him- twice. The first was when Penny had initially retrieved it from the vault under the school herself, and used it to lower the floating kingdom to the ground. The second was when _he_ personally handled it.

He remembered a lot of lights from then. The harsh fluorescent lights of the ICU room, and the blinking lights on all the machines that were hooked up to him. The bright white light from the relic as its magic bloomed around him. The light that came back to his eyes when they first met his own. The light feeling he had felt in his hug.

He hugged back.

“I’m scared.”

“It’s _okay_ to be.”

“I haven’t _been_ okay.”

“And that’s okay too.” Slowly, Clover leaned back from him, letting his eyes meet his again. “There’s one another thing I said, actually. I said that I wanted to trust you, and I _meant_ that. So… can you please trust yourself?”

Qrow had only ever _feared_ himself. He feared the things he would bring upon himself, or worse, to the ones he loved- the ones that were still there. He feared the future and the things it would throw his way. He feared that no matter what he did, he could never truly be able to ever make the right choice.

_But sometimes, the right choice would be the hardest one to make._

Qrow smiled. To Clover’s face, and in the face of his fears. He leaned his forehead onto his, and watched as he smiled right back.

“I think I can try.”

Neither man moved for some time. Both simply sat in the other’s embrace- calm, quiet, and cooling. At least, until a wave of heat brushed against them.

Sure enough, the sun had finally started to rise above the horizon. The sky that was nearly black just moments ago burst into an astounding array of pinks and oranges. As the light grew around them, so too did the sound of familiar voices and footsteps in the sand.

“Time to go soon,” Clover whispered. Qrow was still so close to him, he felt his breath as he spoke. It was gentle, and smelled a little of coffee.

_Oh fuck, that’s right-_

“We still got a bit,” Qrow sighed. He was still so content, sitting there in his arms, but he just knew that if Ruby or Yang could see him now, he’d never hear the end of it. Not that he _wanted_ this moment to end. But until then... 

“Here…” he broke away, _just a little,_ and poured a second splash of water to Clover’s cup, which he wordlessly but gratefully accepted.

Even though it was his second cup, and the used grounds weren’t as strong, Clover could still feel the prominent taste that he had in the first. It was very aromatic, and had a sort of woody, sweet but almost spicy flavor to it. It had gotten a little bitter, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying it.

Qrow, meanwhile, had already poured and gone well into his own second cup- it was still pretty cold out, after all. Even with the cold, though, Qrow settled into a feeling that came not from the coffee, the fire in front of them, or even from the rising sun.

As he nestled into Clover’s side, Qrow savored a feeling he hadn’t been able to for a long time.

A feeling of _warmth._  
  



End file.
